


Twilight Haze

by clear_sight



Series: Death Day [2]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clear_sight/pseuds/clear_sight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tribute to Matt. Matt and Mello's final day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twilight Haze

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old piece from fanfiction.net that I wrote for Matt and Mello's death day back in 2007. It's spoilery and angsty and deals with death. This is Matt's piece and is a companion to Mello's piece.

It was cold. That was Matt's first thought upon waking that morning. He shivered as he reached over to where Mello should have been lying next to him. But there was no one there. That alone was nearly enough to reduce the usually composed gamer to tears. To wake up alone on this of all days. Quietly he sat up, trying to push away his pain. A soft whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it.

And then there were arms around him, holding him close, and a cheek pressed to his neck, soft breath on his shoulder. The smell of chocolate, leather, blood, and ash hit him as he turned his head to bury his face in Mello's hair, clutching desperately at the arms around his bare shoulders. Gently Mello laid him back down, pressing his back against the bed. The blonde sat next to him, bent over him, arms still around his shoulders, face pressed to Matt's shoulder. And Matt returned that hold, pulling Mello down against him as close as he could, one arm around Mello's shoulders, the other hand buried in his hair.

They stayed that way, locked in their desperate embrace, for nearly half an hour. Neither spoke or moved at all, except to tighten their hold. There was no sound in the apartment aside from their quiet breaths and the occasional soft rustling of the sheets. It was as though the world had stopped just for that brief time, an odd twilight between life and what they knew was waiting so certainly for them with the sunrise.

Matt was aware of Mello finally pulling away, of letting go reluctantly, and then the rest of the morning was a blur. He didn't eat breakfast. Neither of them did. No point, really. Instead they prepared as quickly as possible for the task ahead and then spent as much time as they could just being close. There was nothing of the usual fire behind the touches they shared. That had been replaced with a frantic desperation, an unspeakable need to share as much contact as they possibly could before they marched off into the cold light of dawn. Both of them knew it was an empty attempt. There was no way they could get enough of each other to hold them through what they knew was coming. Even if they wouldn't say it, they knew how this would end. There was really no way around it.

And so it was with a distinct trace of desperation quickening his pulse and sitting in his stomach like a rock that Matt followed Mello out to the parking deck. There was one last, long embrace, one last outpouring of emotion before they were to part. Matt almost felt more than heard Mello whisper in his ear.

"I've always loved you, Matt," the blonde breathed, and there was a note of sadness in his voice that threatened once again to bring tears to Matt's glittering green eyes.

"I know, Mello," the redhead replied just as softly. "And I'll always be with you, no matter what."

With that they drew back, taking as long as they could to separate, gazes locked as they pulled apart. And then Mello pulled the cover from his bike and Matt opened the door to his car and settled himself behind the wheel. His eyes were on Mello as the blonde pulled on his helmet. His hands clutched the wheel harder as those icy blue eyes locked on his for what he knew in his heart, if not acknowledged in his mind, would be the last time. Then Mello flipped down his visor and Matt pulled on his goggles and they were off.

For the first leg of their journey, Matt didn't watch the road at all. Instead, his eyes were glued to the Mafioso on the motorcycle in front of him. He wanted so badly to shout for Mello to stop, to go pull the blonde off his bike, drag him into the car, and take them both back to the apartment. He wanted to pull Mello into bed with him and just hold him and not move for the rest of the day or until he could get over the feeling that was gnawing at the pit of his stomach. But they had come to the intersection where their paths diverged and he watched Mello turn and race off down the street with his heart in his throat. And so, instead of fleeing back to the warm safety of the only real home he had ever known, he lit another cigarette and tried not to think about what was coming.

There was Takada's escort. Just as they had discussed, Matt pulled up within range and leaned out the window, firing his smoke gun into the crowd. He watched the panic erupting around him, deaf to the shouting. His eyes were focused only on Mello.

It wasn't until Mello had woven his way into the smoke that Matt finally pulled straight through the intersection. Once the crossroad down which Mello had disappeared was out of sight, he stepped on the gas and threw his all into his task. He watched the accelerator climb as he made his way through the sparsely populated streets, his baby handling with all the grace and ease she'd been modified to possess. He could hear the sirens behind him and urged the car faster, knowing that his role as a diversion was being well fulfilled. And for a moment, as he blocked out everything but the speed and the adrenaline and the blurred scenery, he was flying.

Then he hit the blockade. Breaking from his revelry, he slammed the breaks, his tires screeching as the car half spun into a stop. There were more than a dozen cars blocking every route but the one he had come from.

"How many bodyguards does Takada have?" he murmured under his breath. "Alright. Time to put up another smoke screen."

It was then that he realized he was completely surrounded. There was no way to go back or to slip between cars. His heart thundered in his chest as he stepped out of the car, smoke gun in hand.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute," he called out to the men in the cars around him, many of whom had left their vehicles and were leveling firearms in his direction.

"Since when have the Japanese been allowed to carry such nice guns?" he muttered to himself. Then he raised his voice again and spoke out to the faceless men in suits. "I'm an accomplice in the kidnapping of Takada. Don't you have a bunch of questions to ask me? What's the point in firing?"

But the drumming of automatic weapons cut off the rest of his speech. He felt his body explode with pain from several points before everything went numb and all he could feel was a heaviness dragging him to the ground.

As he slid down the ruined side of his car, his thoughts returned to his blonde. Where was Mello right now? Was he safe? Was he even still alive? But there was nothing he could do now. Vainly he fought against the darkness that was quickly consuming his vision, but he knew it was a losing battle. And so he finally gave in, instead allowing his mind to take him back to the one he had lived and died for.

As he drew his final breath, his thoughts were with Mello. His last words died on his lips as the life finally left the nameless, bloodied body on the pavement.

"I'll be with you always, Mello, no matter what."


End file.
